Only in the Movies
by Th1rteen
Summary: AU Human Nature Fleeing the Family, the Doctor hides as an actor with Martha posing as his agent. Rose gets pulled back into the universe and is along for the ride.
1. The Lady Vanishes

"Mum, it's happening again." Rose Tyler said into her phone as she watched her reflection in the doors of the lift disappear. She was feeling less attached to the world around her, gravity wasn't pulling the same way it had just seconds ago.

The first time it happened was as she walked off that damned beach in Norway. The Doctor's shimmering presence had vanished leaving her broken and more alone than she had ever felt before. She thought, at the time, that it was just another manifestation of losing him. The disconnectedness, the tearing. Something else was pulling on her, something otherworldly.

That time it was brief, a few seconds. She didn't even lose cohesion that time, not quite. But as the days turned into week, which somehow became months, that ran into 2 years, these "episodes," as she now thought of them, became longer, stronger, more vivid.

As they stretched out, Rose was able to observe more around her. At first it was glimpses. She would disappear, but yet appear… elsewhere… away… somewhere different... Sometimes on Earth (or what might have been Earth), sometimes places very… alien.

In the beginning, Rose hoped that this was the Doctor pulling her back through to her original universe. That he had somehow found a way to bring her back to him. She started to look forward to the feeling of weightlessness, the pull of her atoms separating. But as her experience grew, she noticed that things were, at best, unfamiliar in the "other" places she went to. Some places, things were downright horrifying.

"Just breathe sweetheart, it will pass. It always does." Jackie Tyler was used to these calls from her daughter, although they were becoming more frequent. To cope, she had put her faith in her husband and Torchwood. They had come up with equipment meant to keep Rose together. Unfortunately, at least for the moment, it meant that Rose couldn't travel far from Torchwood.

"It feels different this time mum, less random. Like it knows where to go this time." Rose's voice was getting muffled, almost tinny, like she was talking into a can. "I think I want to go."

"Don't say that love. You're going to be fine." The next thing Jackie Tyler heard was the clanging of Rose's mobile hitting the elevator floor.

Lights. Very bright lights were all around her. And there was a humming. No, singing, definitely a singing. Something felt alive, conscious here. It was all so familiar, like a half remembered dream, more than half remembered.

Rose wasn't fully connected with this new place, but she felt more attached here than she had in all of her other experiences. She couldn't feel the air around her, but she could feel… something… something different… but no… not different… she knew this well, so well she used to take it for granted, like the Earth spinning under her feet…

Her head was feeling heavy. No, not heavy, full. Her head felt full, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was all actually very much putting her at ease, like the feeling of finally getting home after a long time away. She felt like something restricting had let go and she was free again, at last.

Her senses felt sharper, clearer than they had been, like as if before, she was living inside a fishbowl looking to the outside world, everything muted and dim, transformed and blurred by the light passing through the glass. She heard sounds now that she was sure she never heard before. Not because they weren't there, but because she wasn't able to really hear before.

Then suddenly it was all slipping away.

"No!" She thought she yelled, but no sound emerged. She felt chocked again, her restraints once again fastened.

She didn't want to go. More than anything else that came before, she did not want to leave this place. She tried to hold on as hard as she could. But there was no purchase, nothing to hold on to. It was reminiscent of slipping off that lever that fateful day that seemed so long ago, but hurt as if it had just happened. Chains wrapped tightly around her, the fullness of her mind was forced out leaving a gaping, angry maw. Loneliness was consuming her.

Her scream was terrifyingly silent.

Gravity reasserted its hold as Rose fell to the floor of the lift. Her mobile was still there, even though hours had passed since she dropped it. Tears silently slid down her face. Her vision was blurred. She ached. Usually her body hurt when she came back, the Torchwood doctors said it was to be expected after having your whole self broken apart and scattered who knew where.

This time, it was more than physical though. This time, her whole being throbbed. Like half of herself was still missing. More than half now. Half of a half. After all, she left half of herself in the other universe, years ago.

The emotional toll likened to that day. When she could see him, and hear him, but not touch, no touching, not ever again. Rose felt sick as she remembered the last time she heard his voice. The last thing he almost said. The last thing she hoped he almost said.

As she collected herself on the floor, she wondered why the emotions from so long ago came back to her with such vengeance. She vaguely wondered if she had died and come back. Maybe her life flashed before her eyes, or at least the most important bits. Maybe that's what all this was. A slow death. Could that have been a glimpse into an afterlife? Had she briefly visited heaven? Maybe that's why she didn't want to leave.

Apparently it wasn't her time.

She nearly laughed out loud at that. Time, still screwing her after all these years.

After a few minutes she slowly got to her feet and pressed the floor for Torchwood medical. Exams always followed these experiences, but with their increasing frequency, Rose really felt like she spent all of her time in the med-bay.

"Might as well call mum." She said to no one in particular. But before she could, the vanishing sensation was happening again and her grip on this reality was fading. This time was even stronger than the last and Rose was almost looking forward to it. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was something better on the other side, this time.

She held her hand in front of her face. She could almost see through it. Her fingers left trails of a golden yellow sparkle as she waved them before herself. The more transparent she became, the more together she felt. Almost like she was shedding her body to assemble her soul.

It was happening slower this time, it felt deliberate. Like something (or someone?) was taking her apart and putting her back together again. It felt like it should hurt but it didn't. Or maybe it did? Pain seemed foreign in her current state. She was twinkling and fading like confetti being tossed and blown in the wind. All the while another, deeper, part of her was coalescing and intensifying, shoring up.

Becoming.


	2. Chasing the Dream

John Smith woke up with a bit of a start. He was almost surprised to find himself in his own bed. Looking around, he felt both out of place and at home. Feeling a bit ridiculous, he took a deep breath and fought to get back to sleep.

He was dreaming, he knew it, recognized it.

*She* was there. In a lift, talking on a mobile. Nothing extraordinary about that. She was blurred, almost like he was seeing a reflection in badly polished steel. Then she shimmered, turned a golden color and whispy, like the wind could blow her image away in a second, a heartbeat. She felt dimmed in a way, which was confusing because he was not touching her. Her image faded further but his feelings intensified.

John felt whole in a way he never experienced before. Like suddenly anything was possible because a piece that was broken, or missing, was restored. It was thrilling and shocking and he wanted it to go on forever.

3John's phone blared intrusively. Bleary eyed and grumbling, he picked it up and nearly threw it across the room. He recognized the number of his agent. Looking at the time and realizing it was still very early in the morning, he ignored the call in favor of trying to get back to sleep and continue his dream.

She was there again, still in the lift, looking a bit disoriented, almost unsteady on her feet. He wanted to reach out to secure her, maybe wrap her in his arms but he didn't seem to actually be there. He tried to lift his hand to his face but found that it wasn't his hand. It was hers. He was staring at her reflection in the doors of the lift. He was looking out from inside of her eyes.

The hand in front of his face was fading, but again the feeling of her, of connectedness was increasing. He wanted to plunge into this and never surface. He willed with all of his might never to wake up again.

His phone trilled again.

"This better be important!" John snarled into the phone, more than a little irritated that once again his dreams were interrupted.

"I've got a role for you." It was his agent, again.

"Martha, the sun is barely up, can't this wait until later?"

"It's nearly noon."

John looked across to his alarm clock, "It can't-" It read 11:48am, "Oh, right, well… I'm not awake yet, having a good lie in… I'll ring you later." He disconnected just as Martha was asking him whether he went on some kind of bender last night.

It was unusual for John to sleep late. He didn't need much sleep, never did. Although lately he was sleeping a bit longer, and his dreams had been, well, interesting. At Martha suggestion he'd started keeping a dream journal. Martha made an appearance in at least one of his dreams. He knew she probably fancied him a bit and was looking to see how much of a starting role she'd been given in his nighttime proclivities.

What Martha either didn't realize, or didn't want to accept was that he did not believe in love. Oh sure, he knew that he needed companionship, friendship and the like, and occasionally that need was baser and more physically pressing, although he couldn't remember clearly the last time he had been physically intimate with someone.

His dreams reflected that attitude. In them he was an adventurer (or a madman), traveling through time and space. Different people with him, different destinations. Sometimes saving the world (or universe), sometimes staying out of the way while lifetimes were destroyed. He wasn't a savior, but, very rarely, a hero.

He even carried this attitude in the movies he starred in. He was a leading man, but never with emotional connections beyond that of duty, or heroism. He was an action hero, a gunslinger, a spy, even manically ingenious villains. His most famous role was that of a doctor that traveled to Africa to help the sick, and was ultimately killed because of civil unrest. That role earned him an award, and his nickname. All of these roles, but never, not once, a prince charming or the like.

It's not that he hadn't tried. In fact, early on he was pursued by casting directors and producers, swearing that his good looks and charm would have female audience members swooning over him and packing theaters, and thereby making everyone a lot of money. But very quickly it became evident that he couldn't act those parts convincingly. He would rescue the damsel in distress believably, but when it came to sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, he became tense, jittery, and so uncomfortable that sweat would pour off of him and he'd get physically ill. Eventually the parts would be recast.

This was never a problem as the action hero roles were pouring in, and really, he didn't think he would ever be capable of playing an emotion he never even hoped to feel. Naturally he had been asked about his aversion to love, as being a fairly successful and attractive celebrity tended to engender a lot of speculation about one's private interests, especially in that area. He was always very private, refusing to talk about his family and other connections (not that there were any to really talk about) and just responded by saying that he didn't want to get involved with someone if he didn't feel as strongly about them.

And while this was all true, he never mentioned that he always thought that there wasn't anyone out there for him. It wasn't that he was very particular, it was just that he never felt that connection with another person, never felt passion, not on the level he expected to feel it.

Well, not never. Actually recently he'd been feeling quite a lot in this area. Just not while he was awake. Lately his dreams, while always fantastic, were different. They had been starring a blonde woman named Rose. A figment of his imagination, but a vividly real figment. She seemed to know him. Or he thought she did. She evoked a feeling within him that he couldn't define. When he woke up from these dreams he wanted to go back to sleep. Wanting another glimpse, another clue as to who this mystery was.

Suddenly feeling like he'd been in bed for far too long, John bounced up and to his feet and headed to the shower. He brought his phone with him, dialing up Martha and putting her on speaker. He could talk while he washed.

"What's the part?" He asked as soon as she picked up.

"Are you calling me from the shower again?"

"No, it's raining here and I decided to go for a walk." He answered in a somewhat exasperated manner. "What's the part?"

"Ugh, you are impossible. The part is the leading role in a live action version of an animated film."

"Bit vague, any other clues?"

"There will be stunts and special effects and elaborate costumes…" She trailed off. Martha was obviously being vague on purpose.

"Martha, what is it about this role that you're intentionally not telling me?"

"Oh, no-nothing, not… not really. I think it's a great part, and you're perfect for it." She was beginning to stutter. "It's just that I agreed to it on your behalf already, because you didn't answer my call and they needed to know immediately." This had happened before. Martha knew him well enough and was a good enough judge of his character and abilities to make commitments on his behalf if he wasn't available.

"All right, that's fine. When do we start?"

"They're sending over the script today. You'll have a week or so for preliminary review, then the read throughs begin. Also, some of it is going to be shot on location."

"Oh really? Where?"

"Scotland. And before you ask, the answer is NO!"

"Come on Martha! I've been practicing!"

"Absolutely not." She could picture his affronted appearance, could almost 'hear' his kicked puppy look. "You will not be doing a Scottish accent. You're rubbish at accents anyway."


	3. Jerry Maguire

"This is not what I signed up for." Martha muttered to herself as she hung up the phone with John Smith. No, he wasn't John Smith, he was the Doctor.

It had been nearly a month since they encountered the Family and the Doctor had to stuff his being into a fob watch and assume the life of a man the TARDIS created for him. All in the hope of waiting out the remaining lifetime of these entities that wanted to harvest his essence for their eternal life.

He had said 3 months. At least she was a third of the way there. But this was not what she was expecting. An actor? Of all things! He was supposed to be hiding! But this cocked up story the TARDIS created made it so the media and the public followed him around wherever he went. His name and his face were everywhere. At least, as his agent, she could keep an eye on him, no one could get to him without going through her.

But he sure did seem to like making her job (and life) harder. He almost never checked in, he avoided her phone calls, never kept appointments. This was getting unbearable! When she was really exasperated with him she tried to remind herself that this could have been worse. When he got more difficult to handle she sometimes tried to think up personas and times that would have been even more frustrating just to give herself a bit of a silver lining. Her favorite (or maybe least favorite) at the moment was that the TARDIS made him into a school teacher at the turn of the century, and she his maid, AND that he fell in love with the school nurse. That would have been awful!

Martha had visited the TARDIS once a week or so, sometimes more, depending on how much of a reprieve she needed from John. At her last visit, the TARDIS seemed edgy and nervous. She couldn't outright communicate with the TARDIS but she had enough of a sense of her to know when the old girl was upset. Martha attributed this to the Family getting closer. So the need to move the Doctor to another location to keep him safe was now paramount.

Leaving wouldn't be impossible to convince the Doctor-well, John to do. He was an actor and, thanks to the TARDIS, was used to travelling for roles. The problem was the role the TARDIS seemed to pick for him. He wasn't going to like it.

John Smith was emotionally unavailable, much like, Martha thought, the Doctor was to her. The filmography that the TARDIS created for him certainly agreed with that. All action, no heart. But the only role available at the moment, the only role that would take them away from here, was not exactly in line with John Smith's repertoire.

It seemed like the TARDIS was continuing to allow her Time Lord to grieve for this lost companion. Even though the Doctor only mentioned her briefly, Martha could tell that the loss of Rose weighed deeply within him. She felt constantly compared to Rose and found wanting. It was like being the rebound relationship.

But given the concocted history of John Smith and the roles he apparently excelled at, Martha was seriously confused at the script and production the TARDIS fabricated for him. It was for this reason that Martha stuttered while on the phone with him. Well, that and the image of him in the shower. Who did that really? Talked on the phone while in the shower. Anyway, she was either going to have to convince the TARDIS to change her mind (not likely) and formulate another role, or the Doctor - John Smith was going to have to get over himself and learn how to become a… prince.

Not all at once of course. There was a bit of a reprieve with this role. He didn't have to be romantic from day 1, unless they shot the movie entirely out of order. He should be allowed to ease into it a bit because the role was the leading man in the live action version of Beauty and the Beast. John Smith was going to play Adam, the prince transformed into a hideous beast as punishment for his cold-hearted and selfish ways. The man that must love and earn the love of Belle, who he imprisoned in his castle, to break the curse.

Martha decided that she better go and try to have a chat with the TARDIS because when John finally got his hands on the script he was probably going to fire her.

x13x

The TARDIS was hidden in a park, off an abandoned trail. To Martha, she looked totally conspicuous and she wondered how in the world she remained undisturbed. The Family was looking for the Time Lord, wouldn't his TARDIS be a big clue? It was like playing 'hide and seek' with a bell around your neck.

Martha unlocked the door, and walked into chaos.

Lights were blinking, the console was sparking, the air was thick with smoke, and she got the feeling of an overwhelming need to pull as hard as she could. She just wasn't sure what she was supposed to be pulling on. Coughing, Martha ran to the console, desperate to try to figure out what was causing this.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She yelled to the TARDIS. There was no answer, just a continued straining and sparking and burning. It seemed like she was ripping herself apart. "What am I supposed to do?"

The Doctor would know, but that option was quite significantly off the table.

Then, just as alarmingly, there was a crash from somewhere below the console, and everything went eerily dark, and still.

Martha blinked a few times. The smoke was still thick but seemed to be clearing, and it was pitch dark. So much so that she was sure if she moved she'd trip and end up bleeding to death from a head wound. Just then, a low moan split the silence.

"Is someone there?" She asked the darkness. There was no response.

Martha now thought that the TARDIS had been fighting off an invader and that's what the fireworks had been about. Someone, or something had breached the TARIDS's defenses. What if it was the Family?

Another, more strangled moan sounded from below the console, followed by a dull thud, like something, or someone hitting the floor.

After debating with herself for a while about the merits of going beneath the console to see what (or who) was down there, Martha cautiously climbed below. It was still very dark in the TARDIS, and Martha was navigating the wreckage and haze with the light from her mobile. Finally getting to the floor beneath, she thought she saw a faintly glowing... something…

She approached the dim golden glow with trepidation, this could be the entity responsible for the trauma to the TARDIS. Little did she know how correct she was.


	4. Awakenings

Rose had a tremendous headache. By far the worst of her life. Worse even than the hangover the day after her 18th birthday party. She tried to open her eyes but the lids seemed almost glued shut, like they were so heavy that she needed assistance just to barely break the seal. Giving up for the moment, she then noticed a song, someone singing, softly but strongly. A melody that was foreign yet familiar, and completely comforting. The pain in her head eased and she drifted off into unconsciousness.

Something was nudging Rose. It wasn't a physical push, more like something prodding at her mind. Almost in the way that a dog would nose your elbow to try to wake you up to be fed. It was gentle but firm, and done in a way that demonstrated care and concern.

Her eyelids fluttered open and her senses returned, though muted and blurry. She vaguely saw flashes of pink. Something clicked inside Rose and suddenly she jolted upright, finally realizing where she was.

"Easy. Don't get up so quickly." An unfamiliar voice came from somewhere outside of her vision and arms braced across her body, gradually forcing her back to a reclined position. "You've been out for a while."

"How?... " Rose began, her voice dry and hoarse. "Who..."

"I'm Martha. I'm guessing you're Rose."

Rose finally opened her eyes and focused enough to see Martha sitting across from her. She was in her bed, in her room, in the TARDIS. Suddenly 'How' and 'Who' didn't matter. She was finally here. But where was the Doctor?

Seeing the panic in Rose's face and body, and anticipating the strain to move, she tried to calm her. "He's fine. He's just not here right now. I'll explain it to you later, but you should rest now."

Rose was feeling stronger by the minute and was not interested in waiting for an explanation. She was back! How or why didn't matter, only one thing, one person did, and she NEEDED to see him, right now! It was at that moment that, unbeknownst to Martha, the TARDIS interceded.

The TARDIS communicated to Rose the whole tale of the Family and what and where the Doctor was right now. Rose, at first, was distressed by the direct connection from the TARDIS. It was stronger and more coherent than anything the ship had previously projected to her. The ship didn't communicate in a conventional way, this was through images, both strange and familiar, evoking an emotional reaction to get the point across.

Rose started to become accustomed to it, welcomed it in fact. Underneath the entirety of the conversation was a feeling of relief and welcoming, that the TARDIS was grateful that she was here. Rose tried to let the old girl know how happy she was to be there too and she found that she actually could 'talk' to her in a way. This was also remarkably different from the last time she had been aboard the fantastic ship.

After a time, Rose spoke, "So, he's hiding as an actor."

"How did you know?" Martha was surprised and a bit suspicious. When she had further investigated the glowing lump under the console and found it to be a human, well, at least she thought she was human. The woman had glowing eyes and spoke in an ethereal and frightening voice, ordering Martha to take care of Rose, before she collapsed and the light faded away.

Martha had dragged the woman she now thought to be Rose through the corridors of the TARDIS because she thought she was a friend of the Doctor's. She figured that was the reason the TARDIS moved the unfamiliar door with the Rose engraved on it as close to the console room as possible. She just assumed that this was the Doctor's long lost Rose and that the TARDIS wanted her to take care of her. But knowing where and what the Doctor was hiding made her distrustful. Could this be a member of the Family? Had she just betrayed the Doctor?

Rose interrupted her thoughts, "I'm sorry, I'm making you nervous. It just took me by surprise is all. The TARDIS told me all about it just now. I'm somehow talking to her. Up here." Rose gestured to her head. "My name is Rose Tyler, and I never thought I'd be back here." She said with a smile that turned watery, obviously overcome.

It then occurred to Rose that the Doctor may have regenerated. The feelings that evoked made her stomach drop to her feet and all the air to rush out of her lungs. She was suddenly desperate to know if the man she adored still had the face she remembered. The panic tha the TARDIS alleviated by letting her know where the Doctor was came back in full force. But how to ask this question of Martha was tricky. Had he told Martha about his Time Lord tricks? If not, Martha would think we was totally mad.

"I need to see him." She managed. "I know he won't recognize me, I just need to see his face." Tears started flowing freely down Rose's cheeks. "Please," she begged, "Please, you have to tell me where he is, I have to see him."

Martha became uncomfortable with the emotion brewing within her. She didn't know who Rose was or how to handle her connection to the Doctor. She knew that jealousy wasn't the mature reaction to have, but she felt the green-eyed monster lurking never the less. She thought to try to comfort Rose but she was becoming almost territorial. Feeling like you're second best while the competition was locked away in another universe was one thing. Actually having that person around and asking for your help to get to the object of their (and your) affections was quite another!

Shaking herself out of her state and feeling more than a little embarrassed by her reaction, Martha knew that she had to help Rose because she was important to the Doctor, and that's what she was concerned about. So she would help Rose see him, but in a controlled way. After all, she still didn't entirely trust that Rose wasn't somehow involved with this mess the Family had created. Then she had an idea. "He's signing autographs tomorrow."

"Huh?" Rose was a little confused, not connecting the Doctor's 'actor' identity with pubic appearances and a fan base.

"He'll be at a book shop downtown, signing autographs. He's promoting his latest film, which was based on some spy thriller novel that came out recently."

Rose, shocked, gasped, "How long has it been?" It had been 2 years since Rose had seen her Doctor but now it seemed like it could have been a lot longer for him. He had a whole film career!

"He's been hiding as 'John Smith' for about a month."

"How is that possible?"

"I think the TARDIS set it up. All I know is that this whole mess started about a month ago. The TARDIS gave me credentials as an agent, although John Smith is my only client. She set him up with a career, an adoring public, an ap fal a flat, everything.

"And he has no idea who or what he is?" Rose found this hard to believe, that the entirety of the Doctor had been supressed.

"He bleeds through a lot. Has been having dreams about his life as a Time Lord." Martha sighed, then continued, "The TARDIS has been getting antsy lately, I think we'll be needing to get away from here soon. The Family might be getting closer." Martha stopped, wondering if she revealed too much, and then quickly changed the subject to distract Rose from the information she divulged. "You should get some rest, you've been through a lot, and besides, if you're going to try to get an autograph tomorrow, you'll need to head out early."

"Why's that?"

Martha laughed a little. "Because, much like the Doctor, John Smith tends to attract people."

That was putting it mildly.


	5. You've Got Mail

Waiting online outside the bookshop was torture. The queue was looped around the building and even though Rose had gotten there early (per Martha's urging), she was still quite far back in line. The store had opened 30 minutes ago but aside from the initial movement of people heading past the doors, Rose hadn't moved at all. She heard mummers through the crowd that 'the Doctor' hadn't arrived yet. She couldn't help but snort in laughter at the fact that his moniker followed him even into his fabricated life.

A dark car with blacked-out windows sped down the street and screeched to a halt in front of the bookstore. Rose KNEW the Doctor was in that car. The crow took a deep breath, in unison, seemingly to prepare to scream to gain the attention of the occupant. The first person to exit the vehicle, however, was apparently not who the crowd was looking for, and the excitement slightly deflated at that.

Rose wasn't close enough to the entrance to clearly see the passengers exiting the car, but she knew when the Doctor appeared. It could have been because of the reaction of all the other people around her but she almost thought it was just because of a connection she had to him. She felt a tingling in her head, a mental itch that she might have always been aware of, but now intensified.

It took a very long time for the doors to the shop to open and allow the Doctor and his entourage to enter. The crowd was reluctant to let him through but after some time they made it in and some time after that the line started slowly moving.

Rose had finally made it to the doors of the store. There were still a considerable number of people in front of her, but with a few more steps, she would be able to catch her first glimpse of him. She was both anxious and nervous to see him. She was praying with all of her might that he hadn't regenerated, even as she swore to herself that she would still feel the same way for him no matter what face he wore.

She had tried to ask the TARDIS about his appearance, but she projected an air of confusion about her question. It was like she was telling Rose that he never changed, like regeneration wasn't something that she understood or didn't give thought to. Being that communication with the TARDIS was new and confusing to Rose, she couldn't make herself clearer, so she was resigned to attending this event to see for herself.

x13x

Rose made it through the doors only to find herself stuck behind a mob of people taller than her. The throng was impossible to see through. Trying to tamp down her impatience, she thought about what she would do when she finally saw him, knowing that no matter the circumstance, she would have to school her reaction. This thinking led her to realize that she had nothing for him to autograph.

For much of the remainder of the time she spent waiting, she was looking for any item within her reach that she could hand over for him to sign, so when she was finally next in line, she was taken by surprise. All of a sudden she was face to face with the man she was certain she'd never see again.

All of the air rushed out of her lungs, her knees went weak, making her stumble slightly, and her eyes started to tear. It all could have easily been explained away as 'typical' of the Doctor's fan base, except that the Doctor was reacting to her as well.

x13x

John had whined the entire ride from his apartment to the bookstore. He was late and he knew it, in fact, he was the cause of it. He purposely got out of bed late, spent an inordinate amount of time on his hair (even inordinate for him), and puttered around his kitchen trying to find a banana just the right shade of buttercup yellow to eat for breakfast. All of this as punishment for his agent who had signed him up for this latest torture. He hated doing these things. He hated the crowds, the hours, the strain on his hand and wrist from writing his name over and over again. But most of all he hated the fans that fell all over themselves at the sight of him, the ones that screamed then sighed and passed out, they were horrible. The normal everyday person he was fine with, but the over the top swooners, no thank you!

So he groused and complained until even he couldn't stand himself any longer, which was about as long as it took to get to the bookshop. Upon seeing the massive crowds and lines around the block he shuddered and groaned and wondered for the thousandth time that morning what in the world possessed him to go into acting, and whether or not he should begin to contemplate firing his agent.

Martha got out of the car first and began trying to clear a path to the door. She was having marginal success before John stepped out, and was immediately mobbed. But just before the swarm enveloped him he felt an odd sensation, almost like an itch pass through his head and he turned to try and find the cause, but the crowd swelled around him and made further investigation impossible.

Eventually he was ushered into the store and found himself in an uncomfortable chair at an unsteady folding table. There were stacks of books for him to autograph for his admirers, and another stack of his publicity photo. There were also a number of markers strewn over the table. As he perused what would be his prison for the next few hours, his head began to pound and his fingers and wrist started to ache.

"I can't believe I agreed to do this." He said to Martha, who dropped a few bottles of water on the table. "I hate doing this." He sighed and put his head in his hands. The organizers hadn't let anyone in past the front doors as yet, so he didn't have to put on a sunny disposition.

Martha rolled her eyes at him and responded, "You're still grumbling about this? I thought you'd be done by now. You know you have to do these things once in a while. Give something back to the fans and all."

"I know, it's just that... ugh... I hate this."

"I've heard. You've only said it a few thousand times already this morning." She put her hand on his shoulder and asked, "Are you ready to face your adoring public?"

"Lay on Macduff."

x13x

John was bored. He had no idea how many times he signed his name so far, he was sure he'd been at it for hours but when he checked the time he saw that not much had passed. The thought that time is wibbly-wobbly crossed his mind. He had been going through the motions, saying hello, asking who the autograph was for, thanking the person for coming and waiting in line, etc. It was monotonous.

He took a sip of water, stretched his hand out and closed his eyes briefly, looking for a tiny respite before the next person walked up. He opened his eyes as the person who's book he just signed was stepping to the side, allowing the next person to up. The rest of the day became hazy after he saw her.

Beautiful wasn't the right word. Important or vital came closer. She was familiar but strange. He started to shake a bit, becoming nervous and excited. She looked like she was going to cry or faint, maybe both.

"Who are you?" He asked, staring intently, trying to look at her everywhere at once, trying to figure out where he had seen her, why she was eliciting such a reaction in him, such an emotional response.

"Doctor..." She began and faltered.

"Who do you want it made out to? Martha interjected, puzzled by the exchange and troubled by her involvement in suggesting this to Rose.

Rose and the Doctor continued to start at each other. The Doctor's pocket started to grow warm. Getting hotter until it snapped him out of his stupor, burning enough that he thrust his hand in and took the fob watch out of his pocket, nearly throwing it to the floor, cursing at the heat coming off it. The watch clattered to the table, glowing faintly golden, where it cooled and returned to normal.

"I think maybe you should go." Martha said as she started to come around to the customer side of the table, toward Rose.

"NO!" John exclaimed, too loudly, jumping up and startling the crowded shop. "I mean, that it's all right. I'm fine, just started day dreaming a bit." He collected himself, sat back down and looked at Rose.

"I'm sorry-" Rose started to apologize, but John interrupted her.

"Not at all, entirely my fault." He looked up at her, trying to use his assets to keep her attention. He focused his whole being on her, using every trick he was ever accused of having. Then, remembering where he was, he realized he would very soon be learning her name. "Now, who shall I make this out to?"

Rose's face fell at his question. It caused her to remember that he didn't know her, that the chameleon arc had rewritten him, that he wasn't her Doctor, even though he still looked the same. Another tear escaped before she whispered "Rose, my name is Rose."

John was confused by Rose's reaction, and troubled by his own. He wrote out the autograph automatically and handed it to her, too caught up in the unfamiliar emotions this mysterious woman evoked in him.

Store security had been alerted because of John's outburst and had finally made their way through the crowd to the front of the line. "I think it's time you moved on miss." A burly man said to Rose, "You've got your picture, and there's a long line here." To John he asked, "Has she been harassing you? Should we be calling the authorities?"

Before John could respond, Rose snapped back to herself and spoke up, "You're right, I should go." She turned quickly and nearly sprinted toward the exit.

"No! Wait!" John was calling for her to wait, but the crowd swallowed her up just as effectively as it prevented him from leaving. "Martha!" He called for his agent. "Please go after her. Find her."

Martha appeared at his side and tried to calm him. "What's wrong? Did something happen with that woman?"

"No... Yes... No... I can't explain it. I need to find her. Can you find her? Bring her back to me?"

John was never like this. Even as the Doctor, Martha never saw this kind of desperation from him. "John, you need to calm down. There are a lot of people here and-"

"I DON'T CARE!" He shouted. "You don't understand!" He had his hands in his hair, pulling, and now pacing in the small space the crowd afforded him. Something inside him had woken up at the sight of Rose and now there was a throbbing, aching, need within him. He couldn't breathe, his vision was clouding. He felt like he was tearing in two.

Then the world went black.

x13x

Rose ran from the bookshop, but the further she got, the harder it was to keep going. She was breathless and aching, tears slipping from her eyes until finally she collapsed on a bench in a park. She tried to regulate her breathing to calm herself but was having a lot of difficulty. Suddenly the TARDIS was in her head, helping to soothe her, helping her catch her breath.

When she finally could, she looked up to realize that she wasn't far from the TARDIS. She wasn't sure how she had gotten there but was very glad this was where she ended up. Slowly she got to her feet and notice that she had dropped the autograph the Doctor - no, John Smith had given her. Picking it up she was surprised.

The picture was definitely a good one. He was gorgeous and his smile showed that he knew it. He looked slim and tall, like he stepped out of a dream. None of that was very surprising. The part that was unusual was the signature, if you could call it that. The writing was a few geometrical shapes. Curved and beautifully penned, but definitely not anything resembling the name 'John Smith.'

Suddenly she heard the TARDIS 'calling' to her. She felt her unease acutely. Rose rushed over to her and entered, trying to figure out what had happened and why the TARDIS was so upset. 


End file.
